Stuff 65: Insecurities

By J.J. Atwell

We All Have Them

Everybody has insecurities – no matter if you’re a CD or not. But today I’d like to talk about my CDing insecurities. Now this could turn out to be a very long post if I were to go through all of them individually. I’ll try to call out the bigger ones. 

Before getting to that, let me also say that this is intended to be mostly funny and thought-provoking. I was inspired to write this particular installment by a t-shirt I saw recently. I don’t lose sleep over my insecurities. I hope you don’t either. 

Some common ones (so many different insecurities in JJ’s world):

Are my boobs the right size for my body? 

How about my hips/butt? 

Is this a good hairstyle for me? 

Should I try a different hair color? 

Is my makeup covering what needs to be covered? 

Do these heels go with the outfit? 

Is my walk giving me away?

As Bill wrote in Hamlet, “Vanity. thy name is woman.” Actually, that’s not his exact quote, but you get the idea. I know that it applies to my circle of CD friends. I’m certainly vain when presenting as JJ, too. I want to look the absolute best I can and am incapable of passing a mirror without checking out the image. 

Let’s talk about proportions. I suspect you’ve seen pictures of CDs that just seem “off.” The boobs are too big or the hips are too skinny to be convincing. At this point, some of you are saying, “But that’s true of women in the real world.” Yes, you are right. You’ll see all kinds of variations on the shape of the female body. But when it comes to my insecurity, it is more about trying not to be one of those out-of-the-norm figures so I can blend in better.

My current anxiety is about my hair. I’ve got two wigs right now, both of a similar shade but different lengths. I think they work ok for me, but I can’t help but wonder if a different color or cut would be better. Of course, GGs experiment with different styles and colors all the time. As a CD, we can do it even easier though with just a change in our wig. So I’ll visit a wig shop at some point. I believe that’s the best way to really see what works for me. I’m also fortunate that one of the wives in my local CD group is a beautician and does a good job trimming wigs. So even if I do decide to go with something different, I can count on her to do the final cutting and shaping. 

The Big One

Of course, my biggest insecurity is passing. But having written that, I guess it’s not that bad. Basically I know that I don’t really pass. I’m just fortunate to look presentable and not pose a threat, so it hasn’t been an issue when out. Still, every time I go out anxiety is lurking. 

I’m wondering how some of you dear readers think about passing. Are you confident in your feminine presentation? Are there things you think could be better? Do you worry about it when you are out? 

I’ll be Back

You can be pretty secure that I’ll be back with more stuff. Comments are welcome either here on the blog or by email to Jenn6nov at-sign gmail dot com. JJ is always looking for more stuff so let me know what you would like to read about.

Wearing ModCloth

Jane enjoys reading Femulate in New Zealand.

Stan and the "Guys" at the Retirement Home

Husbands!

Driving in Heels

In her post yesterday, Monika described how she learned to walk in high heels, but concluded “while I might have conquered walking in stilettos, driving in them is a whole other nightmare.”

In my opinion, driving in heels is easier than walking in heels. If you can sit in heels, then you can drive in heels. It is much less tiring sitting in a car driving on pavement than walking on pavement. Your high-heeled feet are in a more comfortable situation and don’t have much to do as compared to strutting down Main Street. 

I have driven for hours in heels (for example, an 8-hour trip home from Ohio) and my Subaru has a manual transmission, so I have to use both high-heeled feet to drive! Yet, I seldom switch to flats or sneakers. 

But (there’s always a “but”). Depending on your height or more specifically, the length of your legs, the height of your driving heels can only be so high because your legs won’t fit under the dashboard if your heels are too high. (I’m limited to 4-inch heels; your mileage may vary.)

One more “but” – you may scuff or soil your heels as they rub against the dirt on the floor of your car. So it’s a good idea to vacuum the floor of your car before your drive in heels. 

And so it goes (in heels).

Wearing Cynthia Rowley

Learning High Heels

By Monika Kowalska

The first time I slipped my feet into a pair of high heels, I felt like I had unlocked the final stage of femininity. Nevermind hormones, wardrobe upgrades or learning to wield eyeliner like a pro, this was it. I was ready to strut. Or so I thought.

What followed was not a clumsy struggle, but a deep admiration for women who seem to glide effortlessly in stilettos, as if high heels were an extension of their very being. I marveled at the way they moved, each step poised, each stride exuding confidence. My two cis female friends, who took it upon themselves to teach me, walked with such natural ease that it felt almost unfair. They didn’t just wear heels; they owned them. Meanwhile, I was still learning the delicate dance, trying to imitate their effortless grace. Their ability to balance elegance and comfort in sky-high shoes was nothing short of an art form and I wanted nothing more than to master it.

I practiced at home with the dedication of a scientist conducting a high-stakes experiment. I analyzed my posture in the mirror, adjusted my step length and even tried different flooring to simulate real-world conditions. My cat, unimpressed by my dedication, yawned through the whole process. I added music to the equation, trying to find the perfect rhythm that would trick my body into moving smoothly. Slowly but surely, my steps became less mechanical, my balance more natural. High heels were starting to feel less like a threat and more like an extension of myself.

My love affair with heels, however, didn’t begin with my transition. As a child, whenever my parents were away I would sneak into my mother’s closet and slip into her stilettos marveling at the way they made me feel. Of course, back then my steps were even clumsie and my biggest concern was making sure I put them back exactly where I found them so she wouldn’t notice. But the thrill of those stolen moments stayed with me, a secret longing I carried until I could finally embrace heels as part of my own journey.

Then came the big test: wearing heels in public. The grocery store seemed like a safe bet, smooth floors, shopping carts to hold onto, and minimal judgment (or so I thought). It took approximately three steps for me to realize the floor was actually a waxed death trap. The moment I let go of my cart, I wobbled like a newborn foal bumping into shelves and nearly knocking over a pyramid of canned beans. A kind elderly lady asked if I needed help probably mistaking me for someone recovering from anesthesia.

But I refused to give up. I learned to take smaller steps, lean back slightly and most importantly, fake confidence. Because here’s the secret: no one questions you if you look like you know what you’re doing. Even if your ankles are screaming in protest.

High heels today come in a dizzying array of styles, wedges, kitten heels, block heels, slingbacks, backless heels and more, each designed to suit different tastes and levels of bravery. However, I noticed that most of my female friends tend to wear heels less frequently opting for something more comfortable for everyday life. Of course, official events, parties and weddings are still sacred ground for stilettos, but for casual outings many women prefer the sweet relief of flats or sneakers.

After weeks of practice, I finally managed a proper high-heeled strut. Was I as graceful as a Parisian runway model? Absolutely not. Did I stop fearing for my life with every step? Mostly. But when I finally clicked my way across a room without gripping the nearest object for stability, I knew I had arrived. High heels, you may have won the first few battles, but I won the war.

And along the way, I learned a crucial survival tactic: always keep a pair of sneakers in the car for emergency heel relief while driving. Because while I might have conquered walking in stilettos, driving in them is a whole other nightmare.

Since 2013, Monika has been interviewing trans people in her blog, The Heroines of My Life. Click here to see who she has interviewed lately.

Wearing Ann Taylor

Alan Cumming and friends femulating in British television’s The Runaway.

A Meeting in the Mountains

By Norah Blucher

Many of us are guarded of our identities, even among other femulators, myself included. As I’ve attended outings of different varieties with other femulators however, I was right surprised to see how some knew each other as their males selves as well. Some even attending multi-day events as both, arriving en homme or going out during the day en homme and then attending evening events en femme. One of my femulating sisters, whom I have become rather close to, made me rethink this on my end as well.

We have attended events together, enjoyed some outings with just the two of us and are around the same age and have much in common, one of them being skiing. Now skiing is not something I thought practical to do en femme, but when I put forth the idea of skiing together as males, she agreed! From this point, we began to make plans.

Meet Me Again for the First Time

We had decided to go to ski in western Maine, in the little mountain town of Rangeley. They have a smashing ski hill and a quiet little town and I had arranged for us to stay at a rental cabin for the weekend. We also had ideas of going out en femme in the evening and were also to be joined by a civilian male mate of mine, whom I ski with often and who recently became aware of my femme half, meeting her once before even, and was very accepting. This was going to be interesting for sure!

I made the drive and arrived early, checked in, not nervous, but not knowing what to expect either, this being my first time reverse coming out to another femulating sister. My civilian mate was not arriving until the next day, so this would sort of give us a moment to see what this was all about as well.

When my sister arrived, I let her in and greeted her (her? him? Not sure how to say things in this regard. We do utilize our male names and pronouns en homme, but she will always be my sister to me) and we introduced each other as our male selves. We both knew from the day we met that we each had another side and here it was. So wild in many ways, but not a huge deal either. I helped her bring her things in and we settled in and ordered a pizza.

Aside from being dressed as more shabby males and me utilizing my male voice, it was actually not that different. We chatted half the evening away about this and that. Some about our femme lives and experiences and a bit about our everyday males lives as well. I will say though that finally meeting one of my sisters en homme did help “normalize” my whole life a bit more. Most of us here do not live femme lives full-time and some of us get out and meet other femulators at meetings, events, outings, etc., but meeting someone’s male half sort of cemented, at least for me, that we all live two sides of life and it’s okay.

The Mountain is Calling

We arose the next morning and began our day in no particular hurry. Arriving at the ski lodge, we readied out kits and also met up with my civilian mate. It turned out to be one of the most fabulous days of the season. Weather and conditions were good and we found ourselves to be of similar abilities – my sister on a snowboard and on skis myself. Though I’ve been there many times, we explored some trails I’d not yet been to and enjoyed some food and drink at some of the various pubs on the hill. 

Skiing is a rather egalitarian activity, so the fact that me and my sister were both en homme, and with a civilian male, seemed to not have much sway on anything really, though it was nice that my civilian mate knows Norah, too, and of my sister’s other life, so it was rather stress-free for us all as we did not necessarily have to hide anything either. Just a fun day out on the ski slope.

As the day began to wind down, my civilian mate, who had recently not been feeling well, decided he would eat at the ski lodge, before returning to the cabin for the evening. My sister and I were naturally tired as well, but decided we would return to the cabin to get en femme and enjoy an evening out. I mean really, did you think two femulators could go away for a weekend and not try to squeeze in an en femme outing! Lol.

Meet Me Again for the First Time Again!

My sister and I began our transformations and as you know, this can take some time especially after a day of cold weather exertion. During this time, my civilian mate returned and suddenly found himself confronted with a dilemma he had not quite prepared himself for. He was, in fact, sharing the cabin at this time with two girls!

Now he knew we would be doing this and that was fine, but exactly what this entailed was still a bit of an unknown. He does share his life with a wonderful lady, though she is very minimalist in many ways. She is every inch a woman, but does not fuss with hair and makeup like most and really does not need to either. My routine, if I put my mind to it, can take a bit under two hours, which is shorter than my own mother takes, so I think that’s not right bad. My wife took a bit sorter than that, but it still took some time.

The fallout of all this though was that my poor mate really had no idea of what to expect with regard to women fixing themselves up and suddenly found himself in a two loo cabin with a girl in each one!

In all honesty, I found this to be quite sweet of him. Though he’s known me as male most of our lives and met my sister as her male self first, he actually returned to our cabin with the mindset that he was sharing it with two girls that evening and did not quite know how to react when he was suddenly confronted with the reality of it. Long story short though, he finally said something – we both had a good laugh and I told him next time to just bloody say something if he needed to use the loo, lol.

Crisis averted and transformations complete, my sister and I emerged from our rooms ready to take on the night. My male mate took a minute to take this all in. Mind you, he’s known male me a long time and met Norah only once for dinner just a few weeks prior. In this case, he had spent a whole day with two males, who now suddenly stood before him as their femme selves and he admitted it took a minute to set in, especially having seen our other sides just two hours before.

I considered this to be a sincere complement to both of us. Even knowing us both en homme, what he saw before him was not two fellows in frocks, but two women and it took a minute for this to absorb. He also admired out resolve, as he acknowledged how much effort this took after a day of cold air exertion. He did wish he was feeling more up to going out as well as he would have had no problem going to eat with us, but after a brief discussion and some recommendations on where to eat, my sister and I took off!

Fitting In

Blending in with other women is usually our goal and though we were heading out into a small mountain town, populated on winter weekends with skiers and snowmobilers, the goal was the same. I opted for a wool snowflake sweater, skinny jeans and my furry snow boots. My sister was similar, though a bit more formal in a sold color sweater and some low heeled boots. Though the ski lodge was closed at this time and we had to go to one of the in-town restaurants, I thought we did a decent job at “ski bunny” femulation.

Our first choice had much too long of a wait, so we went over to a little tavern that appeared to have good food. I must admit that I did not feel I looked my best. I was quite knackered and spending all day with a freezing wind in your face does not exactly bring out one’s best side either. As I looked about the room at other women though, I came to realize we were all in the same boat. Some were dressed a bit nicer like us, some more casual and none of us looked like we were going to a modeling session or photoshoot, but we all looked just fine. I came to see I was just another girl getting a meal after a long cold day and was a bit more put together than most.

I’d actually no idea what to expect walking in, never having been to this particular place, but found we were treated just fine. Some appeared to be locals, others on holiday like us and everyone was fixated on their own group with nary a look at the two of us. The waitstaff was most kind and I even noticed the bar maid had a really cute wrap top on, so I waltzed over to the bar to compliment her and ask where she got it!

Having our fill, we made our way back to the cabin where my civilian mate was still up and eager to hear of our outing again expressing how he wished he had felt better and went with us as it sounded like a fabulous time to him.

Back Where We Started

So next morning, it was back to three blokes in the cabin. My civilian mate packed up early to get some ski runs in before heading home, while my sister and I took our time, loading our cars and chatting a bunch as girls do. We do not often see each other, so we tend to not be in any particular hurry when we do get together.

On my way home, I stopped at a small department store to browse a bit. (Did you really think you’d get through this story without any shopping, lol!) Anyway, I happened across something I had actually been thinking about, a new female coat. While I adore the black wool coat with the fur trim hood you’ve seen in some of my outing photos, I’ve thought of something a bit more utilitarian for when weather is bad. Going out and about in Rangeley also cemented this thought as I did think it looked a bit too fancy for that setting. 

On a sale rack I came across a black Columbia parka with a faux fur hood in my size. Perfect! It looked plenty nice enough to wear with my work attire if the weather was sloppy, but also fit much better in very casual settings like I had just been in. Though being a real ski bunny might not be in the picture, I could look the part a little better at least.

Heading over to the till, the lady there commented what a nice coat it was and also informed me she had included a gift receipt in case it did not fit, or “she” needed to return it. I just smiled and thanked her, but said that I thought “she” would be happy with it.

So loves, thus ended a fabulous weekend of firsts. Certainly a roller coater for sure, but still fun, and one of discovery for all involved. Questions or comments are welcome below or you can email me at nblucher at-sign proton dot me. Though I love sharing my adventures, it truly is the chit-chat it generates for all that I adore most.

Wearing Hutch

Professional femulator Francis Lee Alsop known as Minnie Meyers, circa 1947

Musk may use Social Security data to target trans

By Daniel Villarreal for LGBTQNation

“Musk recently accessed Social Security data to help the Trump administration weaponize it against trans people and their allies.

“Zinnia Jones, a transgender activist and researcher, told Rolling Stone that the SSA data could be used to “identify nearly all likely transgender people in the U.S. with 99% confidence.” Jones noted that a 2015 U.S. Census Bureau used the same SSA data that DOGE accessed to estimate the nation’s trans population.

“An anonymous former federal employee agreed with Jones’ assessment, adding that the information could be used to identify and remove trans employees from the government. An anonymous current SSA employee also told Rolling Stone that the information could be used to harass medical providers who offer services of which the current administration disapproves. Currently, these services include gender-affirming care, a type of care that the current administration has sought to defund and eradicate completely.”

Click here to read the whole article.

Stuff 64: Watch that First Step

It’s a Doozie

By J.J. Atwell

Remember the Chinese Philosopher Lao Tau who said, “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step?” No, I don’t remember him either. But I’ve found that to be true in so many things in life. Think back to childhood when you first learned to walk. OK, so maybe we can’t remember that far back. How about learning to ride a bike? That was certainly a big step. Or maybe it was a big wheel. 

Your CD First Step

I’ll bet your first step as a fledgling CDer was a big one. Not that I think any of us went full on that first time. Perhaps it was just stepping into a pair of high heels to see if you could walk in them. Or maybe trying on a bra to see how it feels. And if that was your first step, then certainly the next step was to find something to stuff into the cups. So that was not just one step, it became two steps. That wasn’t so hard, was it?

You are on your way! So it progresses to yet another step. Perhaps something to wear over the bra? Maybe you first started with just one of your own t-shirts. You might have looked in the mirror and got a thrill seeing the outline of the bra underneath. And maybe you walked around the house in those heels while doing it. Getting a thrill while being scared at the same time. More steps. 

Does that Sound Familiar?

How far have you progressed on your journey? Maybe now you have your own pair of heels. Not only that but the soles of the heels have scuff marks from when you stepped outside? And you’ve acquired a lot of other girl things. Each of which was a step of its own.

I know I am not at the beginning of this journey, but I cannot yet see the end. I know it is a long journey and I continue my steps. I’m much further along than just the few early steps described above. I’ve progressed to going out in full female attire. That’s quite a few steps down the road. But I’m still not at the end of my journey.

I’ll Be Back

There will be more Stuff as my steps progress. As always, comments are welcome either here on the blog or by email to Jenn6nov at-sign gmail dot com. JJ is always looking for more stuff so if there is something you would like to read about, please let me know!

Wearing Cynthia Rowley

Sylvester

Hemming and Hawing

Humor in a Jugular Vein

We don't need no stinkin’ trousers!

I seldom see civilian women in dresses or skirts. At the mall last week, I saw one woman in a skirt – all the others were in pants. However, there were still racks of dresses for sale in Macy’s. Don’t know who’s buying them because nobody was wearing them. Maybe they should move those racks to the men’s department because it seems that “men” like us are more likely to wear dresses than cisgender women.

Despite what civilian women are wearing or not wearing, I still dress up when I go out. In addition to the dress, I am fully coiffured and wear heels, hosiery, handbag, jewelry, bra, girdle, full makeup, etc. – just like when Mom used to go out. (She taught her “daughter” well.)

People notice. But what’s wrong with being noticed? Being noticed may result in compliments and what girl doesn’t like to receive unsolicited compliments.

I’ve received compliments from complete strangers while out and about. My favorite occurred one day while I was looking through the racks at JCPenney. 

A middle-aged woman (same age as me) approached and asked, “Can I ask you a question?”

I had no idea what she was going to ask (“What time is it?” “Where did you buy your shoes?” “Are you a transvestite?”). I girded my loins, smiled and agreed to answer her question.

“You're dressed fashionably, so I'd like your opinion about a pair of slacks I was thinking about buying.”

Wow! I did not see that coming!

I did not like the slacks that she had picked out and suggested something with a bolder pattern. She admitted that she really did not like her pick and liked my suggestion better.

I pointed out a skirt with a pattern similar to what I had in mind and her eyes lit up as she said, “I saw slacks with that pattern. Now I just have to find them again! Thank-you for your help.”

It does not get much better than that! But how ironic: a “man” wearing a dress helping a woman shop for slacks!

I admit I have a few bifurcated garments in milady’s wardrobe. But I seldom wear them. Maybe when I attend a very casual affair like a cook-out or a softball game. Otherwise, I’m in a dress. 

After all, they don’t call it “cross-trousering,” do they?

Wearing A.L.C.

Mariusz Ostrowski femulating Shazza on Polish television’s Twoja Twarz Brzmi Znajomo.
Click here to view this femulation on YouTube.